


Still Be Here in the Morning

by HisAngelThursday



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anxiety, Bottom Dean, Castiel in the Bunker, Dean Has Panic Attacks, Dom Castiel, Dom/sub Undertones, Gentle Castiel, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Rough Sex, Sharing a Bed, Sub Dean, Top Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 14:04:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10946061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HisAngelThursday/pseuds/HisAngelThursday
Summary: Dean’s been more affected by the repeated deaths of his loved ones than he’d care to admit.  After he has a panic attack on a hunt, Cas consoles him with emotional support and a night of rough sex.  Lots of fluff, lots of smut, and hopefully, lots of feels.





	Still Be Here in the Morning

Death was rarely a permanent staple in Dean Winchester’s life, but it still affected him. 

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t still have nightmares about the ones he lost, even if he did end up getting them back again, of people he loved dying in front of him and the indescribable hollowness he felt afterwards.

Nothing could compare to watching someone you love die and being powerless to stop it, and this was something all the Winchesters had experienced on multiple occasions. It seemed to run in the family. 

Moreover, the danger of hunts was affecting him more than it used to.

Take today, for example.

They’d been on the trail of a wendigo – a very large specimen, but a rudimentary kill by their standards. They’d cornered it in the back woods, Sam and Dean flanking it with their guns while Cas attacked from behind.

That was the first moment his heart sunk: seeing that determined, angelic strut, angel blade in hand, that he’d done right before he’d been offed the last time.

Dean tried to shake off the growing feelings of panic, to focus on the hunt, but when the wendigo turned on Cas they overtook him: he could feel his heart thudding in his chest, lungs heaving, the rush of blood deafening in his ears.

He fell to his knees, peripherally aware of Sam and Cas fighting the wendigo without him, while he sat there, useless, unable to help. 

It wasn’t until he felt their hands on his shoulders that he began to drift back down to earth, pit of dread in his stomach slowly subsiding.

“Dean, are you alright?” someone said, but he couldn’t be sure who.

He looked up to see Sam and Cas looking down at him with the same worried eyes, and then over to where the wendigo lay. They’d had to kill it without him, because he was being a panicky little bitch for no good reason. It was humiliating.

“Are you alright, Dean?” someone asked again, and this time he could be sure it was Cas. 

“M’fine,” Dean muttered, getting to his feet. “Just didn’t get enough sleep last night, is all.” Their looks of concern remained undaunted, and Dean huffed, “Look, can we please just go home? We’ll all feel a lot better once I’m back in bed.” 

“Dean, you can’t just -” Sam started to say, but Dean was already storming back towards the car, head down and not casting them a second glance.

If anyone ever mentioned this again, it would be too soon.

 

… 

 

“Dean, we need to talk about earlier.”

When Cas says this, their back in their bedroom, Dean sitting on the bed and folding his socks. He really is a closet neat freak, though he’d go to his grave before he’ll admit it. 

“Huh? What about?” he asks casually, though Cas senses he knows exactly what he means. 

“Dean, to better understand your issues, I read 94 books on the human psyche centralizing predominantly around post traumatic stress disorder and anxiety,” Cas explains, in that no-nonsense tone of voice that leaves no room for debate. “What you had today was a panic attack.” 

“What? No I didn’t,” Dean scoffs, not convincing in the slightest. “Sammy used to get panic attacks. They’re for little kids, man.”

Cas scowls. “Dean, you are well aware that is most emphatically not true. Now, would you care to tell me what happened, or will I have to drag you to a psychiatrist myself?”

Dean seems to give in a little, his shoulders slumping in capitulation. He still tries to keep his tone casual, however, as he shrugs, “I just…don’t like feelin’ like I’ve lost you, is all.”

Cas sighs, softening a little. He moves forward to sit on the bed, memory foam shifting under his weight. Dean is clearly upset, looking down at the bed and not meeting his eyes.

“Dean,” he murmurs, putting a hand on Dean’s knee. “I promise that you will never truly lose me. I may have to leave, and I may, occasionally, die. But I have always come back before, and I will always come back in the future. Do you understand?”

Without context, the sentence ‘I may, occasionally, die’ could come off as a nihilistic joke, but the subject was too sore for Dean to spend all that much time laughing.

“I love you, Dean,” Cas continues. “And I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

Dean swallows, trying not to tear up. He’s always hated how emotional he is, John’s grunt of ‘quit cryin’ like a damn girl’ still echoing in his mind. 

“Yeah, I know, buddy.” Then, awkwardly, “I love you, too.” 

There’s a long moment of silence before Dean can’t take it any longer, and subconsciously diverts to other matters entirely. 

Cas’s brows furrow as Dean shifts into a more seductive, reclined position, legs spreading suggestively out. 

“You know, uh, on second thought, I’m not one hundred percent sure how ‘here’ you are,” he offers, eyebrows waggling. “Do you wanna, maybe, prove it to me somehow…?”

Cas sighs inwardly. Dean has always done this, used his body, his sexuality, as a distraction from unpleasant feelings. He doubts whether it’s healthy, but if Dean really wants a distraction, he’s damn well going to give him one. 

With a growl, Cas grabs his ankles and flips him over on his stomach in one smooth motion, well aware that the show of strength turns Dean on.

With a flick of his wrist, Dean’s clothes are off, body a country road of soft freckled flesh and curves of muscle, his ass a pair of pert, supple mounds.

Cas wastes no time in shimmying up the bed to straddle him, growling in his ear, “I’ll show you exactly how ‘here’ I am.”

And goddamn if Dean couldn’t suppress a whimper at that. 

Thirty minutes later, and Cas is coming for the second time that night, supernaturally hot semen spilling into Dean’s ass. They’ve by now changed positions, of course, Dean’s legs hooked over Cas’s shoulders, his back pressed to the headboard. 

Feeling Cas’s release inside him, Dean comes as well, dick pulsing and ropes of come splattering his chest before they both collapse on the bed, sated and panting. 

“You good?” Dean asks, voice still breathy as he looks down at Cas, now collapsed against chest. 

“I’m good,” Cas grumbles. Looking up at him, blue eyes heavy lidded, he adds, “Are you?”

“Much better,” Dean smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Now, anyway: that was just what the doctor ordered, I’ll tell you.”

“I’m glad. But I hope you realize, Dean, we still need to talk about what happened. Anxiety and panic attacks can be serious problems.”

“Pffft. Serious problems,” Dean scoffs. “You’re the one who keeps dyin’ on me, and I’m the one with problems.”

Dean realizes what he’s said only after it’s out of his mouth, and is about to stammer an apology. Cas, however, doesn’t appear offended. 

“You’ve died quite a few times as well, if memory serves,” he points out, smiling softly. “But we always find a way to get back to each other again, don’t we, Dean?” 

Dean slowly nods, swallowing wetly. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess we do.”

“And we always will.” He presses a kiss to Dean’s lips, soft and sweet, in pleasant conjecture with the rough sex they’d been having just moments prior. 

Moments like this are all Dean ever needs. 

“Go to sleep, Dean. I’ll still be here in the morning.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt, which, incidentally, I'll be taking until further notice! If you've got a fic you're dying to read (fluff, smut, au and what have you) hit me up on my tumblr (right here https://caffeinedeathwarrior.tumblr.com/) and I will do my best to fill it. 
> 
> XOXO


End file.
